


With me or you?

by Idkwhatimdoing123



Category: DCeased (DC Comics), Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Angst, Bit of Fluff, F/F, Harley isn't a Kite Man fan, Jealous Harley, Little bit of gross content, Protective Ivy, Should get there eventually, Sorry if I messed up the grammar and stuff, Tiny tweaks to characters personalities, Writing probably sucks asshole, Yearning, first fic, lots of feelings, many thoughts, takes place around season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idkwhatimdoing123/pseuds/Idkwhatimdoing123
Summary: Gotham is thriving, the crew is going strong, Ivy is getting married and Harley is 100% miserable. What gives?
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 125
Kudos: 316





	1. What about me?

Life is shit to say the least. Gotham could have been hers. She was a step away from ruling this city, to achieving greatness. And she’d fucked it. 

The re-emergence of Batman, Batgirl and the fucking Justice Crew had sent Harley’s plans of ruling Gotham spiralling down the toilet. Big fish, like Bane and Two Face were defeated and thrown behind bars. Their sections of the city repaired and reopened. The police rallied, order was restored and any remaining criminals who’d managed to avoid capture quickly scattered, hiding in various nooks and crannies. 

Crime was harder to commit than ever. Even small heists were difficult and involved significant risks. There seemed to be a goddamn superhero waiting on every corner. Ready to kick butt with their annoyingly effective gadgets and superpowers. It was bumming Harley out. Well, it wasn’t the only thing ruining her normally bubbly mood. 

When Ivy announced that she had accepted Kite Man’s proposal, Harley was happy for her bestie. It’s what you’re meant to feel when your main gal is getting married. Joyful that they found the special someone to spend the rest of their life with. That being the case, why does her chest clench painfully at the sight of them together? Followed by a hollow ache that appears an awful lot nowadays. Creeping its way into her head and filling it with terrible thoughts that she refuses to confront in fear of revealing their true nature. 

Jealousy. It’s the most plausible explanation. Ivy is her best friend and the most important person in her life. Nobody else comes close. 

It was just the two of them for so long that she took Ivy’s company, attention and constant dedication to their friendship for granted. This became clear to her after Kite man face planted into Ivy’s life, wormed into her heart, and for the first time, taken her focus away from Harley. 

Currently, the botanist is too busy for anything besides Kite Man and the 'babies.' She was always tending to her plants, sorting wedding details, doing science stuff and smooching doofus brain. Harley hasn't ever been in the back seat, and she didn’t appreciate her new spot. The entire situation sucked donkey balls. They’d known each other for like three weeks, for fuck sake! What happened to hoes before bros? 

Harley rolled and contemplated her predicament. Maybe she was overthinking things. Ivy has supported her through thick and thin. If anyone deserves to indulge themselves, it was her. 

She wiggled to the edge of the mattress and got up. Looney Tunes pyjamas swishing at her ankles, she opened the door and slunk into the hallway where she could already hear the others. 

That was another abrupt change to the rather adaptable woman’s life style. Roommates. 

The crew had been splitting the rent and living in the same apartment since the death of the Joker. Having everyone under the same roof is convenient when it comes to planning evil. 

The thought was good, but Harley’s initial delight vanished once she realised that Kite Man is considered a crew member and not just, ‘Ivy’s useless fiancé.’ If she wasn’t stepping in mud, having Psycho walk in on her pissing or discovering that King Shark ate the last tim tam, she was having to watch Kite Man and Ivy be ‘cute.’ It’s the worst. 

Harley entered the room and was visually impaired by the intensity of the overhead lights, and deafened from laughter that was obnoxiously loud for 8:00 am. 

Shielding her eyes to prevent further damage to her sight, she sussed out the go. 

King Shark and Clay face were at the dinning table. They were messily shovelling cereal into their mouths, slurping and chomping away happily. Dr Psycho was reading the newspaper beside them and complaining about ‘feral friends.’ To the right and sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and a half eaten plate of pancakes in her lap, was Ivy. 

How someone could look perfect early in the morning was beyond Harley. Bright red hair contrasting with dark green skin and those....really hairy legs? 

The spell broke and Harley shook the fog out of her head fog. She tore her eyes away from Pam to besides her, and found Kite Man. 

He was lounging in a pink robe and wearing his signature mask, bare legs stretched in a man spread. Practically drooling as he kneaded Ivy’s back in what appeared to be a massage. 

Sensing he was being watched, Kite Man glanced up. Spotting Harley before she could make a hasty retreat. 

“Hey! What’s sup Harls?” he greeted. Giving a friendly wave and using the nickname that was strictly reserved for Ivy. 

“Nothin’.”

Harley sent Kite Man a glare that went unnoticed and spun on heel. He was too busy running his grubby paws all over HER best friend to pick up on the hostility Harley was sending his way. 

Ignoring the choruses of ‘good mornings’ and ‘hellos,’ she trudged to the kitchen and began the daily mission of finding something to eat. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Let alone the person she considered responsible for her problems.

Harley tugged the fridge open with more force than needed and was extremely upset to find it empty. There wasn’t a scrap of food left. Nothing. How in the fucks name was that possible? They bought $500 worth of groceries two days ago. 

She slammed the fridge closed and turned to her friends, plus one. 

“Guys,” Harley hissed, resisting the urge to lose her shit and crack a tantrum the likes of which this apartment has never seen. “Where’s the food?”

“We ate it this morning.” King shark gestured to a stack of dirty plates and cutlery piled hazardously around the sink. 

Dr Psycho put down his paper and pointed a stubby finger at King. 

“There was no ‘we’ in that scenario. You fat fucks ate everything,” he corrected while the accused feigned innocence. 

“You can have what’s left of my pancakes. If you want,” Ivy offered. Not paying Psycho any mind and holding the plate in the air. 

“Thanks.”

Harley smiled and took the plate, sitting on the other side of Ivy. 

It was a squeeze. The couch wasn’t designed for three people, and with Harley shoving her way in, Ivy was fully squished between the gymnast and Kite Man. Thigh pressing against thigh and shoulders brushing.

Luckily, Ivy didn’t seem to care and leaned into Harley, hair tickling the blonde’s cheek. If only she could bask in this feeling of safety and euphoria forever, but it wasn’t to be. 

“I’m surprised you’re not hungrier after your work out last night, Ivy. From the noises you were making it must’ve been intense.” Frank snickered and threw his head back to wave his leafy arms around in a funny dance. 

Psycho covered both ears with his tiny hands. “Fucking hell! I heard enough of that shit last night,” he yelled. Spinning in his chair and giving Frank a look of disgust. “Their room is close to mine and I don’t want to relive the trauma. Kite Man sounds like a dying rat.” 

Clay face took this as his cue and bounded over to enthusiastically join the conversation. “I think their love is exquisite. Two souls linked in the ultimate display of passionnnn,” he said/sang in that ridiculous opera voice of his. Prancing around, a hand resting over his heart and head tilted dramatically towards the ceiling. 

What the fuck were they talking about? Harley was lost. Workouts and noises? She didn’t hear any damn noi-

Seeing Ivy’s face flush a darker shade of green and how Kite Man was sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, it became all too clear what they were referring to. 

It shouldn’t matter. They're getting married. Sex is a given, and Ivy had already told her that they’d slept together. This doesn’t stop her stomach from twisting into knots, an anxious gnawing that thrummed and left her squirming uncomfortably. She was no longer hungry. In fact, she felt nauseous.

“Can we please change the subject?” Ivy grumbled and buried her face in the crook of Kite Man’s neck. 

Harley couldn’t take it. Their displays of affection was irritating and made her want to punch Kite Man’s ugly mug. She wasn’t entirely sure why the thought of them having a root resulted in this rising anger that burned and boiled beneath her skin. There was something about him that pisses her off, everything he does irks her. 

Harley abandoned the plate of pancakes and power walked in the direction of her room. She needed to go somewhere quiet. A place where she could breathe. 

“Wait!”

Ivy twisted in her seat. Calling down the hall after Harley, who’d paused in the doorway. Waiting impatiently for Ivy to spit it out.

“Where are you going?” She was concerned about Harley’s uncharacteristic behaviour. The girl was rarely quiet and reclusive without reason. 

“Gettin’ dressed and going for a walk.” 

“Can I come?” Ivy asked with a weird, constipated expression that Harley couldn’t be stuffed to discern.

A stroll alongside Ivy might be pleasant, though. She missed holding her hand. They did that often when they'd gone for walks together in past, and if they were alone then..

“Yep. My babe loves to go for walks. The parks sorta our spot. They’ve got the best ice cream van. We should totally get some.” Kite Man rudely butted in because apparently he doesn’t understand the concept of personal space and ‘I’ actually means ‘we.’ 

He slung a muscular arm around Ivy’s waist and placed a slobbery kiss on her temple, to which Ivy giggled. A honest to god, high school girl crush giggle.

Fucking. Gross. 

“Sorry. I’m gonna go on my own,” Harley kept her voice neutral and hoped it didn’t look like the rejection it was, but judging from the hurt that crossed Ivy’s face, she wasn’t successful. It nearly made her take it back. Nearly. 

She left it there and went back to her room. 


	2. The Red Hot Habanero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shout out and thank yous to anyone who commented or left kudos. I've had this idea for ages and had the first chapter for awhile, but I was too scared to post since I was worried it was complete rubbish. Happy to see it's not totally awful. Gotta say, reading fanfics is much much easier than writing one, damn. 
> 
> Not really any interaction between the girs in this chapter, sorry. We get a look about how Pam feels about all this instead. 
> 
> If you guys notice im making or have made a mistake and you can be bothered, just let me know. Especially comma and tense wise cause those two things have been my biggest challenge when trying to write this.

Ivy was beyond frustrated. Her coping method of chatting to her plants wasn't having the desired effect, and her stress levels were skyrocketing. 

As a scientist, problem solving is a critical skill that depending on the complexity, involves patience, dedication, and perseverance. A stimulating challenge to get the brain rolling. It’s what she enjoys and excels at. 

She’s a creation of nature’s brilliance and there isn’t a pondering question Poison Ivy can’t answer. Yet, here she was. Stuck on what should be an easy fix; ‘what is bothering Harley Quinn?’

Harley hasn’t been herself lately. She was aloof and easily agitated. Storming off in a rage at the smallest joke and locking herself in her room, refusing to come out or talk to anyone.

At first, Ivy dismissed the behaviour as a solitary incident, figuring that Harls was having a bad day and would tell her about it later when she was ready. Except, neither of those ended up being the case. She did the opposite. Isolating herself more and more from the crew. Coming up with crappy excuses, like ‘I have to get my shoes polished,’ when asked to hangout. It was upsetting. 

The most logical approach would be to ask Harley directly, which she’d done, to no avail. When confronted, Harley had given an empty smile and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, assuring her that she was fine and that she loves her.

If Ivy hadn’t been so gobsmacked by Harley’s emotional whiplash from distant and cold in one instance to loving and affectionate the next, she would’ve called bullshit. Anyone with eyes could tell that something was wrong. Harley isn’t exactly good at hiding her feelings. That’s Ivy’s area of expertise and she’d gladly swap with Harley in exchange for some EQ. 

Despite her hopelessness when it came to understanding people, she knew one factor that was contributing to Harley’s foul mood. Kite Man. 

No matter how hard her husband to be tried, he couldn’t get chummy with the blonde. Keeping them in a room together for more than five minutes was already a massive feat, and even then their interactions were brief and forced. 

Ivy didn’t know what Harley’s issue was. She thought they’d moved past the whole, ‘you can do better’ stance after Kite Man helped take down Dr Trap and proved how much he cared for Ivy. Harley had admitted that Kite Man grows on you and that she ‘got it.’ Only to do a 180 without explanation and start acting as if he’s the enemy. Ivy felt content and safe with Kite Man. Wasn’t that enough for Harley?

Sure, he’s no criminal mastermind and isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was kind and funny. He wanted Ivy for something besides her body and powers. Kite Man needs her and vice versa.

That beats Harley’s ex any day of the week. She hardly has a leg to stand on when it comes to judging Ivy’s taste in men.

Thinking of the devil, Kite Man strolled into the greenhouse where Ivy keeps the plants that required a tropical climate in order to thrive. It’s her happy place. Surrounded by life that treats her like a goddess of whom they love unconditionally.

“Whatcha doing, babe?” Kite Man asked, ducking under a palm leaf and treading where there weren’t bunches of winding roots. “Chilling with the green dudes?” 

“Yeah.” 

Ivy looked at the bench of rare succulents that she’d had specially delivered, and carefully planted in terra cotta pots. They were the size of mandarins with personalities that matched their spiky exterior. 

Harley would love them.

Kite Man’s hands landed on Ivy’s small biceps and rubbed her arms. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Ivy tilted her head and gave him a quick kiss.

That was a blatant lie, but what could she say? ‘No, I’m not okay. Our engagement is putting a strain on my friendship with Harley and I don’t know how to fix it?' 

Saying anything along those lines would make Kite Man feel guilty. Subsequently, he’d attempt to improve his relationship with Harley and only further drive the wedge between them. 

Ivy needed a plan of attack. A way to reveal what was going through that crazy and beautiful head of Harley’s. Close observation on how she acts when Kite Man is present compared to when he’s absent would be key. Then she’d follow it up with an interrogation.

Enough was enough. She refused to be torn between her fiancé and her best friend. Harley will have to get off her high horse and learn to accept Kite Man, she wasn’t getting choice in the matter. 

“Cmon. Lets go see what the others are doing.” 

Ivy took ahold of Kite Man’s wrist and dragged him back towards the entrance that connected the greenhouse to the apartment. Guiding him around the dense maze of bushes, vines and flowers. 

“Hell yeah!” Kite Man cheered. 


	3. Cat's out of the bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering who's telling this story. Dont lol.
> 
> There is a scene from a certain Tv show in here cause inspiration or something.
> 
> Im sorry that this chapter doesnt flow very well. I tried to be more outwardly descriptive but it didnt really work.
> 
> Also, anyone reading this and thinking Harley's not handling things well. That's because Harley from the comic books is really immature and impulsive, so I feel like she'd have a very hard time controlling intense emotions, like anger, love and jealousy. Can you image her having to share the Joker with another women? I couldn't see that going down well. Trying to include personality traits from the cartoon and the comic. I apologise if i've missed any mistakes. My ramble is finished. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

After returning from her stomp around the block, Harley sulked the day away. Whoever said that walking helps a troubled mind, were talking straight out of their ass. It was boring, the polluted air burned her nostrils, and an extremely unpleasant image of Kite Man pounding Ivy on the coffee table kept popping into her head.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea. She wasn’t picturing that intentionally. Thinking about Kite Man in his birthday suit definitely didn’t do it for her. She was just trying to comprehend why someone in Ivy’s league would let fucking Kite Man put his dangly parts inside them. It absolutely did not have anything to do with Harley wanting to be the one to make Ivy moan! They’re best friends, that’d be weird. Ivy wouldn’t go for her anyway, she’s drop dead gorgeous, and Harley has nothing to give. But if Ivy was down and were to offer-

“Get up.”

Ivy hovered above Harley. Hands on hips and looking down at her expectantly. 

‘The fuck? Where did she come from and how long had she been standing there?’

“Get up,” Ivy demanded. “We’re going out and you’re coming.”

Harley automatically latched onto the ‘we’ in that sentence, and it instantly made her hesitate. For a second, she thought Ivy wanted to spend quality time with her and internally deflated knowing otherwise. Already upset and inner brat cheering her on, she decided to not acknowledge Ivy. She was going to sit here and play deaf, like a petulant child. Purely out of spite. 

Ivy stared at Harley, and Harley counted the cracks in her cream coloured wall. Neither women spoke, both waiting for the other to make a move. The silence that filled the room wasn’t the peaceful kind you’d stumble upon in a faraway forest. It was the sort that occurred right before a predator attacks its prey, dangerous and tense. 

Fed up with Harley’s game, Ivy reacted. Shooting forward, she grabbed her by the wrist and yanked. Effortlessly pulling a surprised Harley from her cocoon of warmth. 

“What the hell, Ives?!” Harley screeched, struggling to detangle the numerous blankets wrapped around her. 

Rolling her eyes, Ivy stood tall and placed two fingers under Harley’s chin. 

“Enough of this shit,” she snapped, pointing to the bed, where Harley had spent the majority of last week. “You can either tell me what’s wrong or you can come and spend time with your friends, but you’re not staying here.” 

Ignoring her cries of protest, Ivy proceeded to tug her through the building. 

“Also, it’s unhygienic to wear your converses in bed. You really need to stop doing that,” she added as a random afterthought. 

————————————

Her annoyance at being dragged out of bed and given an ultimatum was forgotten. It was hard to be angry when her fingers were linked with Ivy’s. Such a mundane gesture that kept Harley connected to Earth, grounding her. Her presence alone scared off the spiral of dark thoughts that crashed down on her and threatened to pin her to the bottom and envelop her in their murky depths.

“Harls,” Ivy said. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

She does know that. Everything except that she despises Kite Man and might be attracted to Ivy, just a little bit. It wasn’t worth mentioning. 

Giving Ivy her best toothy grin and squeezing her hand, she replied, “Obviously! The same goes to you.” Her voice was a couple pitches higher than it should’ve been. It sounded suspicious, even to Harley’s own ears. 

Of course, Ivy noticed. Her gaze bore into Harley’s, face blank and eyes sharp, the cogs in her head clearly spinning. It made Harley feel exposed, like she was a microorganism Ivy was dissecting, pulling back the fine layers holding her together and revealing everything that she is. 

Spotting their destination, Harley figured a bad distraction was better than none. 

“Oooo, look! We’re almost there,” she exclaimed excitedly. As if they hadn’t been to the dingy place, with their soggy fries and watered down beer hundreds of times already. 

Walking in, they quickly found the others. There weren’t many people inside, allowing their rowdy bunch to be spotted easily. They were circled around a table in the corner of the pub, each nursing a beer. 

Ivy dropped Harley’s hand and made a beeline for Kite Man. Harley glanced away when they kissed and did her best to ignore the saltiness clawing at her heart. Focusing on the remaining crew members. 

“Hello, bitches.”

“What a magnificent night for fate to bring us together.” 

“Wanna drink?”

A drink. Fuck yes. Harley needed some spirit numbing alcohol. The proper way to deal when the chips are down is to ignore your problems and drink heavily. 

“Yes!” Harley yelled, too enthusiastically since everyone turned to look in her direction. 

“I mean, uh. Yeah,” she said, quieter this time. “I’ll go order one.” 

————————————

In hindsight, throwing back seven ‘bomb’ shots and half a margarita wasn’t her brightest idea. There was a small, nagging voice that was telling her to go home and that this was a bad decision that will have repercussions. The wonderful thing about alcohol though was she no longer gave a crap. 

Thoughts in a frenzy and world spinning faster than normal, she swiped her glass, its contents sloshing sloppily and went to stand. Just to fall back onto her chair in an unbalanced attempt at walking. Trying again, she staggered away from the bar, nearly tripping over her own feet.

Ambling her way across the room, Harley lunged for her seat, distrusting of her uncoordinated legs and their ability to support her. The impact almost knocked the chair over. Luckily, she must’ve retained a few reflexes considering she managed to catch herself on the table and prevent an embarrassing fail. 

“Are you trying to set a record?” Psycho asked, seemingly joking but tone humourless. 

Harley shook her head. Mouth dry and words too difficult to form, the safe route was to not speak. Much to her relief, nobody else made any comments towards her current state. Instead, they talked about something she couldn't concentrate on. The task of keeping herself upright was hard enough. 

Chin resting in her palm, Harley blocked out the background noise and zeroed in on Ivy. She was laughing, hair messy, and lacy red bra exposed above the low-cut shirt she was wearing. The definition of stunning comes in the form of Pamela Isley, and so did the term, ‘fucking tease.’ 

Returning to the present, Harley looked down and sculled the rest of her drink. Not wanting to get caught ogling Ivy, like a creep. 

“Dolphins are mammals, not fish.” King Shark corrected, sipping his beer. 

Kite Man suddenly leaned in close, invading Harley’s personal space and giving her a whiff of his foul cologne. “I heard that dolphins might be smarter than people,” he whispered. Acting as if he were telling them classified information. 

“They might be smarter than someee people,” Harley blurted out, staring intently at Kite Man. The alcohol was getting to her, the conversation becoming more thrilling, as a result of muddled sounding sentences and a loss of what little filter she had. 

Psycho chuckled, Clay Face and King Shark shifted nervously.

“Well, maybe we could do an experiment to find out,” Kite Man happily replied, while Ivy sent her a look of warning. Insult going straight over his head. 

Harley weighed the pros and cons of speaking her mind and then gave in. Self-restraint be damned, the burning desire to be brutally honest was overwhelming, and this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Easy ‘nough,” Harley smirked. “We’d need a l-large pool of water, hoops to jump through and whatever bite sssized treats you find tasty.”

“Harley!” Ivy hissed, slamming a hand in the middle of the table. Losing her temper on her Kite Man's behalf. 

“I don’t get it,” Kite Man said, throughly confused. 

“A-a dolphinnn m-might,” Harley stuttered, laughing uncontrollably. 

“AHAHAHAH.”

Under the influence, everything’s a lot funnier, especially ripping on Kite Man. ‘She’d met goldfish smarter than him,' that thought only made her crack up more. She was hunched over and clutching her stomach with tears in her eyes. Amidst her cackling, Harley vaguely heard Psycho excuse himself, Clay face and King Shark, but was too busy gasping for breath to fully process their departure. 

Meanwhile, Kite Man had caught on. Realisation flashed across his face, smile vanishing.

“Oh, I get it. You were making fun of me,” he mumbled. 

Harley went to bite back, a snarky retort on the tip of her tongue that was eager to escape, and bitch slap Kite Man. Unfortunately, Ivy got in first.

“Ignore her, babe,” she said. Walking to Kite Man’s side and stroking his arm lovingly. “She’s just drunk.”

Looking up, Harley went to defend her sobriety and then saw the pure rage on Ivy’s face. She was death staring her, eyebrows pinched and lips pursed. The sight had Harley’s words lodging in her throat, a barely audible croak the only evidence of their existence. 

A tiny ball of regret began growing in her gut. Having Ivy mad at her was the worst feeling there is. She knew she’d crossed a line and should probably say sorry. Doing so would be a blow to her pride, but she’d swallow that mother fucker for Ivy any day. Remembering her meditation practices, Harley calmed herself and prepared to fabricate a sincere sounding apology. 

“Why are you such an asshole? No wonder the Joker picked Batman over you.”

Two pairs of eyes snapped to Kite Man in shock. Harley was momentarily speechless, she hadn’t thought he was capable of growing a back bone and apparently Ivy didn’t either. The boldness of the comment had her mildly impressed. Until the second part registered.

‘No wonder the Joker picked Batman over you.’

That stung, a lot. He spoke the truth, and there wasn’t a single comeback to deflect from that, which pissed her right off. The sadness she felt was pushed aside and replaced with fury. Even Ivy’s wrath couldn’t save him now. 

Moving unnaturally quickly, Harley seized a handful of Kite Man’s suit. Relishing in his squeal of fear and pulling him towards her. 

This was it, the moment she let everybody know how she truly felt. Words of venom ready, Harley stood up and- 

Projectile vomited all over him.


	4. Eruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is short because for some reason writing this chapter was a struggle. Btw i dont hate Kite Man, i dont know why im giving him so much shit. lol. 
> 
> Anyways, as always i apologise for grammer mistakes and such (not my strong point) 
> 
> Also!!! Last chapter for the thoughts i had the writing slanty but it got changed to normal writing, so sorry about that. I think my structure looks a bit weird, my paragraphs look much bigger on the app I use before posting. I hope it's tolerable.
> 
> Sorry if it's too choppy, I tried my best. Much love!

Despite Ivy having witnessed many gross events and people throughout the years, this takes the cake. 

Thick, yellow liquid sprayed from Harley’s mouth in a horizontal waterfall of alcohol, bile, and whatever else she’d eaten that day. It splattered onto Kite Man’s unsuspecting face, like paint being thrown on a canvas. Pouring off his chin and running down his chest in a steady stream, coating his suit in the vile substance.

Seeing it was too late for Kite Man and not willing to brave being thrown up on to save him, Ivy sprung to the left. Elegantly sidestepping and dodging stray pieces of vomit, putting herself at a safe distance from the erupting chaos. There’s only so much she’d endure for the people she loves.

Everyone in the vicinity followed suit, pushing over chairs and abandoning expensive meals in order to get away from the puking blonde.

Also attempting to escape the onslaught, Kite Man raised his arms to protect his face and took a blind step backwards, foot landing in a pool of spew. Traction lost, his feet flew out from under him, and he went down like a sack of potatoes. Hitting the ground with a ‘thud.’ 

“I think I got some in my mouth!” he screamed hysterically. Sliding away from Harley and desperately wiping at his face. 

Harley stood in place and gave a final retch. Stomach virtually empty and bravado gone, along with her pride and strength, she leaned against a nearby table. Slowly lowering herself to the floor as her legs turned to jelly and her knees buckled, slumping forward bonelessly with a pained groan. 

Ivy was there in an instant. Feet moving on their own accord until she was crouched at Harley’s side and frantically running her hands around the back of her head, checking for bumps and other injuries. After a minute of searching and battling to stop needy hugs, Ivy was satisfied that Harley wasn’t hurt and went to assist her significant other. 

Grabbing a few napkins, she walked to a sobbing Kite Man and gingerly wiped chunks of partially digested food off his face. It was disgusting. 

“Fuck, babe. Im so sorry about this. Are you okay?”

Kite Man shrugged, eyes downcast and kicking his now ruined shoes. The sight made Ivy feel incredibly guilty. If she had kept a closer eye on Harley then this wouldn’t have happened. Even though it’s not her job to babysit a fully grown adult who’s perfectly capable of looking after herself, she couldn’t help but feel responsible. And as much as she wanted to comfort him, she had bigger priorities. 

“Why don’t you go home and get cleaned up.” She moved closer to Kite Man and smiled apologetically, trying not to cringe at the smell wafting off him in waves. “I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re not coming?” 

“I can’t leave her like this,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at a semi-conscious Harley.

Kite Man nodded, disappointment clear in his posture and turned to leave. Muttering, “I understand."

Ivy watched him go with watery eyes, and then refocused her attention on the women who was swaying side to side and drunkenly signing, ‘Last Friday Night.’

Shaking her head, Ivy sighed in defeat. 

“Christ almighty. What am I going to do with you, Harls?”


	5. Kiss me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Im actually feeling pretty good about this chapter. I don't want to sound like an arrogant prick but I think my writing has improved a little bit, saying that i'll probs jinx myself and people will hate it. 
> 
> Also, cause im a bit of a fuckwit i only just learnt about the whole when using an exclamation mark and stuff after dialogue you don't follow with a capital letter to show it's still apart of that sentence, unless it's someones name. Growth, my mates! So sorry about the mistakes in previous chapters. 
> 
> Ps i tried to change the thought bits to slanty and it didn't work. Really sorry about that.

Ivy wasn’t having a good time. It’d taken her nearly an hour to flag down a cab, standing in the freezing cold and shaking like a newborn fawn in winter. All while holding a passed out Harley and waving at every driver that went by. Then what should’ve been a short trip home, was doubled since they kept having to pull over, on account of Harley waking up and needing to be sick. The multiple phone calls and texts she sent to the crew, Frank and Selina went unanswered. 'Selfish assholes.'

A horrendous car ride later and they arrived at their apartment complex. Hobbling inside, she was struck with the reminder that living in the dodgy side of town meant there is no residential maintenance, so the fucking elevator doesn’t work and that left stairs. 

Dragging a barely conscious Harley up twenty flights of stairs was a nightmare. The arm slung across her shoulders weighed heavily on her neck, and awkwardly bending to keep a steadying hand above Harley’s hip was making her lower back cramp something fierce. If Harley was trying to help, she couldn’t tell. She seemed more interested in muttering unintelligible nothings in Ivy’s ear, and at one point she could’ve sworn that she kissed her neck. 

Just when Ivy thought she’d die from cardiac arrest, they managed to reach their floor huffing and puffing. Ignoring her screaming muscles, Ivy summoned the last of her strength and hauled Harley’s drunken, cute ass to the front door.

Digging around in her jacket pockets, she grabbed her key and shoved it in the lock, wriggling and jerking her wrist until she heard a 'click.' Twisting the handle, she flung open the door, and they stumbled inside and struggled the last few metres to the couch. 

They tumbled onto soft cushions. Harley landing on top of Ivy, head hitting her chest and body resting between Ivy’s thighs. The room was silent as both women caught their breath, it was peaceful for a brief moment. 

“Ivvvyyy.”

“Yes?”

“I-loveee youuuuu,” Harley sang, nuzzling her collarbone. 

“I love you too, but you’re heavy,” Ivy stated, pulling herself upright and gently pushing Harley off her. Their intimate position was causing her body to react in ways it shouldn’t, that and she hadn’t fully forgiven the little bundle of energy for her stunt earlier. 

Harley pouted, cherry red lip sticking out in a childish and endearing display that had Ivy hiding a smile. 

“Ya mad ats m-me?”

Standing, she purposefully turned away from Harley and mustered her sternest voice, “Yes, I’m annoyed.” 

“Why?!” she asked. Giving Ivy an incredulous look and dramatically throwing her hands in the air.

“You know why.” 

Spinning around, Ivy crossed her arms with a frown. “What you said to Kite Man was cruel and I’m not going to stop being angry with you unless you apologise to him.”

Speaking of Kite Man, she couldn’t hear the telltale groaning of pipes that told her someone was in the shower. If he came home he must’ve heard them, they’d hardly been sneaky coming in. He probably went to his parents place and Ivy didn’t blame him. If their positions were reversed, she wouldn’t want to be here either.

“I’don’t wanna,” Harley grumbled. 

“Then I’m not going to tal-“

“He’s more important to you than me…”

The abruptness of the comment left Ivy dumbstruck. ‘He’s more important than her? How ridiculous.’ Her whole world revolves around Harley, it has from the day they met and she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She uncrossed her arms and stared. Trying to decide whether this was an actual concern of hers or if Harley was just spouting alcohol induced nonsense. Watching the blonde fiddle with her fingers and refuse to meet her gaze, was the only answer she needed.

“Harley,” Ivy started, pausing to gather herself. “You’re both equal. I care about you the same amount I do him.” 'Liar.'

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t love me like ya does ‘em,” she spat, voice laced with bitterness and lip curling up in a snarl. 

That felt like a punch to the gut. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence and the implications of it had her reeling. Her heart was pounding in her chest and every muscle was tight and sprung for action. Things were winding into a dangerous whirlpool of emotions, and a wrong step could see her sinking. This was risky territory and she wanted out. High hopes result in disappointment and heartbreak. 

Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing herself, she replayed her next words in her head and took a couple cautious steps towards Harley. 

“I love him….differently than I do you, but that doesn’t mean it’s not as strong.”

Harley’s eyes welled with tears and her chin trembled. The sight made her stomach drop and chest ache, a crying Harley should be illegal.

Rushing forward, Ivy knelt on the floor and clasped Harley’s smaller hand in hers. 

“Please don’t cry,” she whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear with her free hand. “You’re the biggest piece in my fucked puzzle. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

That worked. Harley stopped crying and sniffled, wiping her snotty nose on her shirt and giving Ivy a looked filled with yearning. 

“I-I really want ya.”

Ivy tilted her head in confusion, “You want me?”

Harley nodded, “I. Want. You.”

Her eyes became hooded, flickering to Ivy’s lips and lingering there. Harley slowly leant forward, she was so close. A centimetre more and they’d be kissing. And they would’ve. If Ivy hadn’t moved in the opposite direction. 

Retreating and putting some much needed space between them, she counted to ten and ran her fingers through her hair. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re drunk.”

“I do,” Harley said. 

“You don’t.”

“I do!” she cried, “yer the mash potato to ma curried sausages.”

Feeling cornered and stressed, Ivy did the only thing she could think of to end the conversation and prevent the situation from escalating. 

In one smooth motion, she scooped Harley up, hooking her arm under her knees and wrapping the other around her waist. She carried her down the hallway, long strides quickly reaching Harley’s bedroom. Making her way inside, she pulled back the covers and carefully placed Harley in the bed. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

“Shhhh,” she hushed, tucking Harley in and making her nice and snug. “Go to sleep.”

“Bu-“

“We’’ll talk in morning, if you want.”

Ivy squatted and kissed Harley’s forehead, saying a quiet, “Goodnight.”

Before Harley could utter a word, Ivy was turning off the light and plunging the room into darkness. Without looking back she closed the door behind her.


	6. Love complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chaper could literally be a really bad script for home and away. Letting you know that now. 
> 
> If you read this and think the dialogue sucks. I agree. It's still the best i can do though so yea. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

The pounding in her skull was torture. It felt like the blackest of clouds was hanging over her head. Cracking open an eye to the dimly lit room, she sneaked a peek at her alarm clock 12:30 pm. Squinting, she licked her chapped lips, dry mouth sticky with thick saliva and moaned, retreating under the duvet.

Although her memories from last night were fuzzy, it wasn’t enough to erase what had transpired between Ivy and her. She’d thrown herself at her best friend and gotten rejected. Even if she was drunk, she had still offered her heart to Ivy, and she'd crushed it under her shoe in a shattered disarray of pieces. How she was supposed to cope with that, she didn’t know.

Her roots are intertwined with Harley’s very being in a way that nobody else ever has been, and she’s worried that if she’s not careful, they’ll tighten to the point where she can no longer breathe. But Ivy is also her light, and without her, she’s lost in the dark. For Harley used to be a boat drifting across the ocean, searching for a safe place to dock in every storm. Then one day, she found a harbour that could protect her from the raging sea, offering shelter and warmth that was a first for her, and it was bliss.

Why does she keep doing this to herself? Falling for people who aren’t going to love her back. Was she secretly a repressed masochist? Fuck knows. It’s possible, she is pretty messed up. However, thinking about the times the Joker beat the snot out of her, she definitely didn’t enjoy them. It was actually what caused her doubt their relationship and leave him. The promises she made afterwards to guard her sensitive little heart that fell quickly and broke too easily were all in vain. She’s nearly in the exact same position she was in with the Joker, and she hadn’t even realised. Isn’t it funny when you think you’re moving and in reality you’re standing still? The brains ability to play tricks on itself really is incredible. 

When with the Joker she would overlook his veering lies and telling actions. Turning the other cheek every time he struck and belittled her. Convincing herself that it was merely the green eyed monster rearing its ugly head. Hidden in the crevices of her soul, she knew that he took her for a mindless fool. He had made a mockery of her feelings and cut the happy strings of her heart. Maybe that’s what she deserves and is the best she’s going to get. A pretend romance was better than none. Begging him to forgive her wouldn’t be hard, if he wasn’t dead. 

Love didn’t seem so complicated when she was a younger, nor did it contain traps of hurt. There’s a sort of heartbreak that’s akin to a smooshed ice cream melting on a hot road, completely destroyed and disintegrating. To get this close to what she thought would be true love, and then to watch it slip through her fingers isn’t something she can bounce back from. 

There was a soft knock at the door. 

“Harls? Can I come in?”

It was Ivy, of course it was. Her timing’s impeccable. 

“Yes,” she replied. 

From the safety of her doona cover, Harley listened to Ivy come in. The door squeaking and wooden floorboards creaking under her weight.

“I brought you a glass of water and some advil.”

“Thanks,” she said. Burrowing deeper into her bed.

“Are you becoming a butterfly under there?”

Harley giggled. Picturing herself in a cocoon and bursting out with pink sparkly wing and screaming, ‘I became a beautiful butterfly.' Breaking the ice through humour, Ivy had definitely got that off her. 

Feeling a bit better, she poked her head out from behind the doona and found Ivy perched on the edge of her bed. Dressed in her usual attire. 

“There she is,” Ivy smiled affectionately, earning one in return. 

“How are you feeling?” The question held a great deal of emotion to it, which unnerved Harley. 

She sluggishly picked up the water and advil that was sitting on her bedside table, throwing the circular pill in her mouth and gulping the entire glass in one go. It was refreshing, soothing her scratchy throat. She wished she could wash her brain free of toxins too. 

“Like shit,” she croaked.

“I’m not surprised,” Ivy laughed, apologising when Harley winced. 

A heavy silence fell over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the air. Harley looked around unceremoniously, shifting uncomfortably and awkwardly twisting her sweaty hands. She could either act like last night was a mistake or put herself out there, confess and pray that Ivy had changed her mind overnight. Neither choice was appealing. Not that it mattered because Ivy picked for her. 

“I think we should talk about yesterday.”

Harley felt panic like a cluster of spark plugs in her abdomen. Adrenaline flooded her system, and she wanted to run for the hills, but she stayed put. Fear is a challenge, a demon she has to slay. For it will keep coming until she does, gnarly and unforgiving. 

“I don’t regret it,” she said before she could think better of it. 

“What don’t you regret?”

Preparing for the worst and hoping for the best, Harley took the plunge. 

“Tellin’ you that I love you.”

Staring at her feet, Ivy cleared her throat and spoke. “Im sorry…” she looked to Harley sadly and continued. “I trust you with my life but I don’t trust you with my heart. I’m marrying Kite Man.”

Harley’s world came to a halt and dread overwhelmed her. She wanted to scream and cry harder than she has ever cried before and forget the words playing over and over in her head. ‘I don’t trust you with my heart. I’m marrying Kite Man.’

Kite Man, Kite Man, Kite Man, Kite Man. She was sick of hearing his stupid fucking name. What was the big deal with him anyway? He’s nothing special. All he does is fly around on his shitty kite, and he doesn’t even do that well. He’s a tool. Why can’t anyone else see that? He’d ruined everything. This is his fault. The beating in her chest is now nothing except angry muscle and she was done trying to cover it up. 

“Kite Man is a fucking dork. I’ve taken craps with more personality.” 

Ivy’s face hardened, eyes that reflected the hues of the forest darkened to moss green. Never before had eyes held such danger and beauty all at once. 

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked in fake concern. “Im just saying facts.”

“When you guys have your little monsters you better hope his genes are recessive. Otherwise you’re gonna have severely disabled kids.”

Ivy looked deadly, but Harley was in too deep and she wasn’t stopping until she hit rock bottom. 

“You should also forget your dream of savin’ the environment,” she stopped to pick a piece of nonexistent dirt from her nail, feigning disinterest. “With Kite Man in your corner that’s not gonna happen.”

Ivy scoffed, “Oh, and you’ve been really good at that, have you?” she pointed a slender finger to the ceiling, “Name one time YOU helped me with any of MY goals.”

Harley paused, jolting her brain for a memory that she could use as an example and finding zilch. Everything that came to mind was Ivy supporting her and Harley retuning the favour by going off to do her own thing. Was she seriously that self-involved? Surely there has to be an occasion. 

“Exactly,” she growled. “You can’t because you don’t think about anybody besides yourself, so don’t you dare talk about my dreams when you’ve done nothing to contribute to them.” She shoved Harley aside and headed for the door. 

“Yeah, well. Kite Man doesn’t truely love you. He’s using you to get his dick wet.” That was a lame deflection and she knew it. She just didn’t want Ivy to leave, that would mean she’d lost.

Ivy spun on heel, “What would you know about true love? Cause you and Mistha J were soulmates?” Her voice rose in pitch, and voice changed as she nastily mimicked Harley’s accent. “Please, remind me how well that relationship turned out.” 

“Fuck you,” she snapped, jumping from the bed and getting in Ivy’s face. “I was willin’ to die for you. That’s more than he’s ever done.” 

Ivy laughed in a way that was alarmingly manic and followed it with, “Did you do that for me or for yourself?” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a runner,” she explained. “You don’t know what love is, you’ve never loved someone and nobody has ever loved you. It’s the sad truth.”

Wow. She knew they were throwing low blows, but that seemed particularly vicious. Is this what Ivy really thought? That Harley was some selfish creature who isn’t able to receive love or capable of giving it. Fine then, she doesn’t need Ivy. She doesn’t need anyone. Blinded by hurt and fury, she took words and fashioned them into a knife, stabbing with full force. 

“We’re not friends. I hate you.”

Harley ran passed Ivy and out the door. She crashed through the apartment, down the stairs and into the streets of Gotham. Tears trickled down her face as fast as rain. Her lungs heaved and she knew that this was it. It’s over.


	7. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright I've got a few things to say. I went back over some of the earlier chapters and holyyyy shitttt my grammer was bad (not that it's much better now but still) so to all who left comments and kudos anyway, thanks a million. 
> 
> Also I'm ngl, I am not happy with this chapter. I think it's pretty shit, you guys probs will too. Life wasn't going my way and I couldn't figure out how to fix it and this is what we're left with. Chapter is kinda short and im sorry about that aswell, not that they're ever very long.
> 
> Btw how is the pace of this story? Is it moving too fast or are you guys good with this tempo?

She ran and ran. Buildings and people flashed past her, merging together in a blur of shapes and colours. She sprinted through alleyways, across roads and jumped down stairs, lungs burning and sweat pouring off her. There wasn’t a plan or destination, distance was all that mattered. 

She kept going until she found herself in a deserted, poor excuse for a park. Too tired to care anymore, she collapsed in a heap on the ground. There she stayed, laying in the dirt like a used rubber, eyes closed and inhaling the soils earthy scent. If anybody were to disturb her she would’ve killed them. The gods took pity though, and nobody bothered her. 

The warmth of the afternoon sun cooled and transformed into the soft glow of a full moon, rays sneaking past clouds and glistening on wet, snow coloured cheeks. Goosebumps covered her bare arms and legs, the cold biting at her exposed skin and making her shiver. 

In her heart, she retracted the awful things she’d said to Ivy, including the stuff about Kite Man. She’d stupidly let her emotions get the better of her. The heat of the moment had led to a buildup of grief and devastation that quickly became resentment and bitterness. Her deepest insecurities were trigged and floated to the surface, so she’d lashed out at someone who loves her. Maybe not in the way she wanted, but loves her nonetheless. Nobody else does, Ivy had smacked that one on the head. Both of them were hurt and retaliated by hitting back. A bloody sparring match where neither woman pulled punches, and in the end, Harley was the one that got knocked out. 

Stirring, she followed her line of sight to a massive red oak that was in the centre of the park, standing out among the dull and lifeless surroundings. Its bright red leaves rustled in the breeze, long and twisting branches reaching to the darkened sky. The beauty it held was undeniable. There was something about it, like it was calling her in a language only she could understand. Little whispers in the wind that beckoned her to come closer. So she did. 

Getting on hands and knees, she crawled towards it. Once close enough she pushed her forehead against its sturdy trunk. The rough, scratchy bark should’ve hurt, but her numb body didn’t feel anything besides her inner turmoil. She spoke to it quietly, spilling all her worries and issues. Ivy had told her that these guys were some of the wisest among trees. That they grew fast and learnt quickly, Harley couldn’t relate. She’s a slow learner that made the same mistakes numerous times. People say that doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results is the definition of crazy, which makes sense. Guess she really is just a cute psycho. 

She let Mr Tree know that a large part of her wanted to jog home, fall at Ivy’s feet, beg her for forgiveness and tell her that she’s her everything. That she’d do anything she wanted if she’d just give her another chance. But she also felt betrayed, and every time she checked her phone and found no missed calls or texts, the feeling increased tenfold like acid being dropped into an open wound.

Even if she does apologise, there was a chance Ivy wouldn’t accept. That she’d laugh and say that Harley isn’t needed, that she could leave and never return. No, she can’t go back yet. Everything’s still raw, and she didn’t want Ivy to see the frightened child within, damaged and afraid. Hiding in fear beats facing failure and it’s better than the pain of further rejection. 

Ivy was right, she’s a runner. She avoided her problems, denying their existence entirely instead of acknowledging them and finding ways to overcome the traumas that haunt her. Pulling the ‘what you don’t know can’t hurt you’ facade, smiling and joking like she hadn’t a care in the world. Deluding herself made living with her mistakes somewhat bearable, Harleen would taunt her less and sometimes be nice to her. It’s ironic, having a masters and a PHD in psychiatry and using none of that knowledge to her benefit. She’s a hypocrite and a coward who can’t even take her own advice. 

The longer she sat there, the more she was dominated by a profound sadness. A flowing river, powerful and unending. The urge to cry was strong, tears stinging her eyes as they became a blue glacier under a sheen of water. Unable to hold back anymore, she wrapped her arms around Mr tree, squeezing hard enough that it was painful and cried. Wailing sobs that were only interrupted by her need to breath, chest rising and falling unevenly with every gasp. She was losing her mind…again. She could feel it unraveling, the threads of her sanity scattering and dropping to her feet. Clawing at the tree, she pushed the length of her body against it, splinters digging into her skin, trying to gain as much comfort as she could. 

Her self-loathing was stopped by a presence that she felt before she saw. The air temperature dropped slightly and everything descended into absolute silence. 

“Hey umm, are you okay?” A friendly, concerned, and scarily familiar voice asked, one that she’d recognise anywhere. 

She cast her eyes upwards, and there he was. His expression was hidden in the shadows, but those sharp cheekbones and chin were easy to distinguish. It’s not possible, he’s dead. Ivy had chucked him in the chemicals and they’d left him in the burning inferno. There’s no way he escaped, and even if he had, why would he appear now? She must be hallucinating. Broken mind showing her what she wanted to see. 

Harley went to speak and no sound came out, emotions going haywire. Anger, anxiety, fear, joy, and sadness all fighting for the top position and rendering her speechless.

Unwrapping her arms from around the tree, she self consciously smoothed her unbrushed hair and gave him a curt nod. Shame flooded her when she pictured how she must look to him. Face flushed and puffy, clothes wrinkled and dirty, being the same ones she was wearing last night and probably smelling like a skunks asshole. Not to mention the whole hugging and crying to a tree, which was a new level of pathetic. 

“I’m glad,” he sighed in relief. “I saw you crying and I was worried.” 

Worried? Joker doesn’t worry, especially about her. That proves it, he’s a figment of he imagination. Unless…the vat changed him. After all, he had wanted to throw her in there to get rid of Harley Quinn and bring back Harleen Quinzel, so why wouldn’t it do the same to him? The thought of a sane joker, a normal Joker that wasn’t an evil piece of shit, was kinda disturbing. She didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Overwhelmed and already teetering on the edge, Harley did what she does best. She stood up and walked away, getting around five paces before a large hand landed on her shoulder. 

Scared and borderline hysterical, she slapped his hand away and spun around, screaming, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He held his hands in front of his face, showing her he meant no harm. “I only wanted to give you this.”

In the limited light she could see him holding out a small piece of paper, and it didn’t take a genius to know what was written on it. 

“Why would I want that?” 

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging those broad shoulders she used to kiss when they were in bed together. “I feel some weird connection to you and I thought you should have it.” 

“W-whatever, fine.” 

She snatched the paper and casually shoved it in her bra, hoping he couldn’t see her blush in the dark, and once again moved to get the fuck out of there. 

“Bye,” he smiled.

“See ya, creeper,” she nonchalantly replied, mentally taking note of how fast her heart was beating.


	8. Coming for ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bros I'm sorry it took so long for anyone that is actually waiting for an update (shits hard) and I just want to say thank you for the lovely comments. You guys are so supportive and it's the only reason most of this fic exists. Don't get me wrong it's rewarding writing but also causes anxiety. 
> 
> Mixed feelings on this one. Stuff doesn't happens but stuff happens but stuff doesnt happen. Tried to do it in italics or at least bold and it didnt work. Sad life.
> 
> Im really bad at editing so im sorry for the like hundreds of mistakes i probs missed in this chapter.

Ivy paced back and forth across the living area, phone clutched in her hand, knuckles white with tension, and anxiously chewing a finger nail. Gently nibbling soft skin and using sharp canines to rip off shreds of flesh. The walls of the apartment were stifling and too close together. There wasn't enough space to move.

Sliding her phone into her pocket, she went around the room, muttering to herself and haphazardly picking up old pizza boxes, chocolate wrappers, empty containers, and tossing them in a messy pile. The jerking of her body and swift movements were almost robotic, but her trembling arms and hands showed otherwise.

The stress that clouded her senses escaped the confines of mind through near constant motion. She cleaned on autopilot and daydreamed about their fight. Replaying it scene for scene and analysing every negative and positive word and action, approaching them from different angles to try and get a better view.

When Harley ran out, every cell had urged her to go after the blonde, screaming for her to chase Harley down and tackle her in a bone crushing hug, but she thought with her head and not her heart. Doing so would’ve given Harley the impression that she was in the right and that shitting on her and Kite Man’s relationship is okay, and it most certainly was not. It would be rewarding her for throwing a fit, and she was done enabling that less than charming trait by letting her chuck a temper tantrum whenever things didn’t go her way.

That didn’t mean that she doesn’t regret her role in the argument. She should have known better than to engage with Harley when she was that rilled up. It was obvious she was upset and projecting her anger towards Kite Man to vent her frustrations, and though her insults weren’t actually directed at Ivy, they might as well have been.

Emotions jagged and insides tight, Ivy had felt herself cracking and told Harley to stop. Warning her that she was walking a fine line, and she kept pushing. Waving a lure in front of Ivy and tempting her to take the bait, and she fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Pissed off, defensive, and internally wounded, she’d aimed a flaming arrow straight where Harley was weakest. Taking advantage of her checkered past and psychological instability to hurt her. It was a manipulative and calculating move that Ivy usually reserved for those that had committed crimes against nature. In other words, she’d been a huge asshole.

She threw the rubbish in the bin and sat on the couch. Leaning forward and putting her elbows on her thighs and resting her head in her hands. Hair forming a curtain of red that hid her shame from the outside world. She sat there for awhile, taking deep inhales through her nose and out her mouth, allowing guilt and disappointment to join her long enough to gain new perspectives upon her feelings.

When it came down to it, what bothered Ivy the most was less about their breakdown in communication and more on how Harley handled everything. The evidence it provided in terms of the future was clear and disheartening. 

By fleeing, Harley was confirming fears Ivy harboured from the beginning. That when the going gets tough, Harley leaves to take the easy route. How could she trust her heart, the same one she has built a cast around many times, to someone who might abandon her when things get complicated? It’d break her and their friendship wouldn’t recover. She’s also very much in love with Kite Man. 

Ivy startled and jerked upright at the sound of keys jingling and a lock turning. She relaxed once the door opened and in came Psycho, Clay face and King Shark. They were bickering amongst themselves and hadn’t noticed Ivy, much to her annoyance. 

“Where the fuck have you guys been?” she snapped, gaining everyones attention and doing a decent job at hiding how crestfallen she was to see them instead of Harley. “I’ve messaged you like a thousand times.”

“Nice to see you too,” Psycho deadpanned, barely sparing her a glance and heading straight for the kitchen.

King kicked off his shoes, ditching them in the doorway and revealing his clawed feet. “We stayed with a friend of Clay Face’s for the night. Thought we’d give you some privacy to..” he hesitated, choosing his next words carefully, “fix the whole Kite Man and Harley issue.”

“Our phones were off because we had a Johnny Depp movie marathon and missing a second of his superb acting would be scandalous,” Clayface clarified.

“Yeah, and we don’t really enjoy confrontation,” King flopped onto an old bean bag Harley had stolen from of a pawn shop. The blob of patchy fabric was surprisingly comfy and there were often squabbles over who got to sit there.

“Speak for yourself. That shit was the highlight of my night,” Psycho chuckled and rubbed his baby hands together gleefully. “I only left so I wouldn’t have to deal with the shit show that was Harley Quinn.” 

Ivy scowled and swallowed her anger, clenching her jaw to remain quiet and turning her attention to Clayface. He smiled and walked towards her, leaving a trail of mud in his wake.

“And this morning we went to an exquisiteeeee play,” he did a ballerina spin. “It truly captured the life love can breed when nurtured properly and-“

“I get it,” she interrupted. “Sounds great. Glad I can count on you all.”

“Someone’s cranky,” Psycho said, stuffing a bunch of Doritos in his gob and raising a caterpillar eyebrow at Ivy in question. 

Realising she was being unfair, Ivy sighed and nodded in agreement. They’re not responsible for Harley. They do plenty for her already.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she gave Clayface a smile. “I’m just tired.”

The three men in the room looked to each other, and stared intensely, seemingly having a telepathic conversation. After some more eye fucking, they simultaneously turned to face her, which was unsettling. 

“How’s your other half?” King asked.

Ivy grimaced, the reminder that Harley has yet to return home spreading worry through her like ink being spilt on paper. 

“She’s fine. She went for a jog.”

King propped himself up and gazed critically at Ivy, “good to know, but I was actually referring to Kite Man.”

“Oh! Right,” she laughed nervously, “duh.”

The flowers of embarrassment bloomed in her cheeks, and her eyes skipped between crew mates, gauging their reactions to her slip of the tongue. Being the pains in the assess they are, no one was giving anything away. Excluding Psycho, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, they were suspiciously neutral, and somehow that was worse. Was it normal to assume that they’d been talking about Harley? Someone’s other half can mean their best friend, right? It was an honest mistake. There was nothing to it.

“Sooooo?” King prompted, bringing Ivy’s pondering to a standstill and gesturing for her to continue.

She blinked and stared blankly, “Soooo, what?”

Psycho groaned, “Fuck me. I’m surrounded by morons.” He pointed his chips at Ivy like a weapon and yelled, “How’s Kite Man?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. He’s ummm..” Kite Man, they want to know how he is. Ships sinking in a sea of dicks, she needs to focus. It’s not a hard question. There isn’t any need to be this flustered, Ivy thought. Except there was because she couldn’t answer truthfully. 

She’d been so busy taking care of Harley and dealing with the following incident that Kite Man had completely flown off her radar. Not once did she think to call and make sure check he was alright, and he hadn’t contacted her either, which was odd. Sending random GIFS and emojis throughout the day with various love messages is a favourite activity of his whenever they were apart. Chances are he’s still mad about the bar, he’s too sensitive for that sort of stuff. She would just have to make it up to him tomorrow. 

“Good,” she forced a smile. “Kite Man is good.”

“Hmmmm,” King hummed, “that was very hesitant.” He scratched his chin and regarded Ivy thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t realise I was being timed. As I said, I’m tired.” She spoke with a firmness that demanded the topic be dropped, patience wearing thin. 

It did the trick. Clay face came and sat next to Ivy, grabbing the remote and switching the TV on. He flicked through channels and yabbered to King in detail about a sitcom he wanted to watch.  
Uninterested in brain numbing telly, she settled for briefly observing Psycho mix himself a cup of vodka and orange juice that was unequal in ratio. He noticed her staring and gave her the bird mid-sip, and she flipped it right back. 

Ivy was starting to relax when there was a familiar buzz against her stomach, quickly followed by two more. Her hand twitched, and she subtly glanced sideways to make sure Clayface wasn’t being nosey before pulling out her phone, nerves vibrating with anticipation. 

She pressed the home button and frowned in dismay when the screen flickered to life, and she read, ‘two new messages from Slinky Malinki.’ 

Deflated but curious, she smashed in the pin code and opened the app. Clicking Selina’s contact and scanning the messages. 

Slinky Malinki: Can you please explain to me why the killer clown was sneaking into my bed one hour from midnight like a fucking rapist and almost giving me an aneurysm?

Slinky Malinki: Seriously, it was next level creepy.

Slinky Malinki: You’re paying for my therapy. I’m going to have night terrors for years.

Ivy reread the texts and released a breath of relief, a weight lifting off her shoulders. Harley was safe. Sadly, her solace was short lived as she reached the conclusion that Harley went to Selina’s to avoid her. 

Beginning to feel drained, she paused and considered ignoring the thief. Her thumbs hovered above the keypad. It would be so much easier to watch television and stop giving a damn. She couldn’t though, not until she knew the extent of the damage, and figured out how to make amends without bowing down to Harley.

Her phone buzzed again.

Slinky Malinki: Bitch! I can see you’re online.

Slinky Malinki: Answer me. I know where you sleep you green marshmallow. 

Ivy bit her lip to silence an irritated grumble and typed a reply. 

Plant lady: Is she okay? 

‘Slinky Malinki changed your name to Green Cunt.’

Ivy scoffed and decided she wasn’t going to dignify that with a response.

Green Cunt: We had a fight.

Slinky Malinki: What about?

Green Cunt: I’d prefer to not talk about it.

Slinky Malinki: Is it because Harley fed Kite Man like he was a baby bird?

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

Green Cunt: How do you know about that?

Slinky Malinki: Harley told me while she hot boxed my room with her BO.

Slinky Malinki: If I had to imagine how Shrek’s swamp smells, that’d be it. 

Slinky Malinki: You owe me a new bed sheet btw.

Ivy rolled her eyes at Selina’s theatrics and wondered why the cat enjoys making her life difficult. 

Green cunt: Can you please tell me how she is?

She watched the three dots bounce in the corner of her screen and impatiently tapped her foot.

Slinky Malinki: If you must know, you can ask her yourself. 

“Who are you talking to?” Clayface stretched his neck behind Ivy to see what she was doing, but was blocked when she tilted her phone downwards. 

“Harley and don’t do that,” she said, waiting for Clayface to retreat and pressing send. 

Green Cunt: I won’t push her to talk to me.

Ivy didn’t get a reply for a bit, and she began to worry that Selina had gone to bed and wasn’t going to answer when the typing sign reappeared. 

Slinky Malinki: I refuse to be your middle man. You were both dickheads and one of you is going to have to grow a pair if you want to fix things. Alright?

She has a point. This wasn’t working, and having Harley running to Selina like some abused puppy didn’t sit well with Ivy. She couldn’t take back what she said, but she could take steps to make it better. And since Harley obviously wasn’t coming to Ivy anytime soon, she’d have to go to her.

Green Cunt: Okay. I’ll be there in 15.

Slinky Malinki: Wait. What?

Putting her phone away, she stood and hurried to the fruit bowl where she kept her keys. She snatched them and went to leave.

“Oi, where are you going?” Psycho bellowed. 

“To get Harley.” 

Then she was gone.


	9. Wtf is this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk what this shit is either. Sorry.

Breaking into the notorious Catwoman’s house was surprisingly straightforward. 

Maintaining top-notch security in Gotham is essential when thieves and crazies are more abundant than cops, and being a crook herself you’d think Selina would close her bedroom window. Leaving yourself vulnerable is a rookie mistake, and it’s not like Kitty to be unprofessional. 

Harley was relieved and amazed that the occupant didn’t stir throughout her loud entrance. Clambering inside gracelessly and cursing as her spandex underwear got snagged in the hinges. If she were anybody else, sleeping beauty might’ve awakened at gunpoint. Fortunately for Selina, Harley only wanted somewhere to stay that wasn’t home and didn’t require money. 

Having been to Selina’s numerous times on account of Ivy, she could have easily navigated her way through the blankness and to the guest room. That is, if it was less of a trek. Why walk to a different bed when there was a perfectly good one right in front of her? There’s plenty of space for two people. If she keeps her distance, Selina won’t even know of her invasion until morning and they could both get some quality z’s. Surely she wouldn’t care if Harley were to share her oversized bed for the night. They’re friends! What’s the worst that can happen?

Happy that her version of logic was solid, Harley tiptoed to the vacant side of the bed and lifted the doona just high enough for her to slither under, climbing in slowly to prevent jostling a slumbering Selina. She shifted till cosy and pulled the covers to her chin. Inwardly congratulating herself for successfully accessing ninja mode. Master Splinter would be proud. 

The mattress was outrageously soft. Her sore muscles melted into the cotton rectangle Selina called a bed. The sheets were smooth to the touch and smelt expensive like Chanel. It probably cost an excessive amount and was made of silk or something equally over the top, and Harley wanted one. Everything screamed luxury at its finest, Selina in a nutshell. It was a massive improvement from the park.

Enclosed in warmth and eager for a break, Harley shut her eyes and replayed random Tom and Jerry episodes in hopes that they’d become a prelude to sleep. 

Fatigue swept through her, and she was drifting into the world of dreamland when her subconscious lit up with the days’ events. The new Joker flashed before her and disappeared as quick as he’d come. His vivid image had her stirring and searching the dark for danger, studying the outline of posh furniture and sorta expecting to find her ex hiding in the shadows. 

She found nothing to raise alarms and lowered her guard, feeling silly and childish. There isn’t anything to be scared of. She’s Harley fucking Quinn. A badass fighting machine and people should fear her, not the other way round. The Joker’s handsome kisser could go eat a big bag of dicks. 

The feeling of panic passed, but she was still rattled for reasons unknown. Sleep wouldn’t come with her feathers this ruffled, and dissecting her psyche to expose the root of the agitation would undo the relaxing effect of being restful. So she shuffled closer to the silhouette of Selina’s slim frame and took comfort in her proximity instead. 

Harley is needy though. Her desire for physical affection wasn’t fulfilled by just being nearby. A flaw ingrained during a childhood full of neglect and solitude, a nightmare in itself. The Joker despised her consistent and demanding requirement for attention. She did whatever he wanted to try and get him to acknowledge her. Jumping at every command and bending to each and every whim. Dying to please and practically begging for the tiniest hint of praise. He disregarded her efforts and brushed her off as if she were a pest, making the craving stronger.

She wriggled forward and stopped inches from Selina, literally breathing down her neck and internally questioning whether it’d be inappropriate to go in for a cuddle. 

Selina is a older sister like figure of whom Harley secretly admired and often annoyed for the hell of it. The burglar typically wasn’t fussed with Harley’s touchy side, knowing it’s platonic. But she’s a grouchy bitch if someone wakes her unexpectedly and abrupt hugs may do exactly that. 

Yeah, nah. Accidentally disturbing Selina and getting a one-way ticket home wasn’t worth it. 

Sitting upright, she was in the middle of tapping the headboard and combing for a spare pillow to snuggle when a balled first collided with her nose. 

Harley’s head snapped backwards, and pain erupted from the point of impact. She instinctively protected her face and went to cry ‘uncle’ but was too slow. A palm smashed against the centre of her chest and knocked the wind out of her. Hands seized her arms, trapping them to her sides and shoving her backwards. Sending a dazed Harley tumbling off the edge of the bed and smacking onto the floor neck first.

“Fuc-k,” she wheezed. Laying stomach up and cupping the base of her fragile neck, “That fucking hurt, dammit.” 

For someone that gets their nails done weekly and has a hand moisturising routine, Selina sure can throw a powerful punch.

There was a clap and the lights came to life. Harley cringed and ducked to shield her eyes while the room basked in white and yellow. Taking a moment to let the black spots clear from her vision and adjust to the change in brightness, she looked to Selina’s last known location. 

She found her standing on the bed in a white nightie, knees bent and holding a digital alarm clock behind her head. Ready to attack. Her expressive face washed blank as she tried to process the scene like the wheels in her brain couldn’t turn quick enough to take in the information from her wide eyes. 

For a split second Harley’s discomfort suspended, and her mouth stretched in an amused grin. To dumbstruck Selina of all people is no small feat. It was absolute gold. If Harley had a camera, she'd have taken a photo. 

“It’s me,” she stated the obvious, figuring she better identify herself before Selina pegged a clock at her, “Harley.”

Recognition dawned on Selina, surprise visibly morphing into anger. 

“What. The. FUCK?!”

Harley smiled sheepishly and massaged her swollen nose. She was so accustomed to the calm and collected ways of Selina, that the sight of her going bananas was worrisome.

“Why the fuck are you in my house?!” Selina bellowed.

“I thought we could have a sleepover,” Harley wiggled her eyebrows cheekily. Bruised and aching she may be, but her sense of humour was still intact.

Selina didn’t agree. Her nostrils flared, and she hopped. Landing noiselessly next to her unwanted visitor and aggressively discarding of the makeshift weapon onto her oak dresser. 

“Are you fucking serious?” she snarled. Unimpressed with the former jester’s poor attempt at a joke and apparent lack of boundaries, “This isn’t funny.”

Harley flinched and shrugged. Unsure if that inquiry was rhetorical. 

Selina cast her with a death glare, “What are you doing here?” 

The sharp tone told Harley that if she continued in this direction then having to rough it out in a cardboard box would become a reality. 

“I’m sorry. I needed somewhere to crash. I knocked and you didn’t answer,” her voice tumbled out softly and sincerely, skipping certain details.

Selina’s jaw dropped, “And your solution was to break in?” flabbergasted at the audacity.

“I didn’t break in,” she defended. “You left ya window unlocked.”

“It’s the same thing!”

“My nips were freezing,” Harley nonchalantly licked a blob of dried blood off her lip and continued speaking like that was a valid excuse, “what was I suppose’ to do?”

“You were meant to go home. Not sneak into my bed like Charles Manson, you fucking lunatic.”

Harley tutted, unfazed. “If I were Charles Manson you’d be dead. You’re getting sloppy with age, Kitty.” 

She was promptly told to ‘get fucked,’ and they both laughed.

“Ya know. I might’ve saved your life tonight and you repaid me with violence,” she pushed out her chest, indicating to where there was a red and welting handprint. 

“I’ll show you bloody violence in a minute,” Selina threatened. She crouched and slapped Harley’s hand away from her nose, murmuring, “let me see.” 

A swift examination was performed that involved giving Harley’s schnoz a speedy yank for asking ‘if they were gonna play doctor.’ 

“You’re fine,” she stood to full height. “Don’t carry on like a pork chop.”

“It hurts!” 

“Serves you right.” Selina took a seat and crossed her legs, “It’ll teach you some common courtesy.” 

“It did,” Harley confirmed. “You don’t want me to go, do ya?”

“You know you’re a little shit, right?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t going to happen again?”

“No.” 

“And you won’t molest me in my sleep?”

“Unlikely.”

Selina gave a disapproving look.

“No,” she corrected.

“Then you can stay cause I’m a nice person.”

Harley pounced and squealed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Pale arms wrapping around Selina’s waist, squeezing tight.

The receiver squirmed. Dismissing the words of gratitude but tolerating the hug for a beat, patting a blonde head and gently detaching herself. 

“Be grateful I’m fond of your Neanderthal noggin,” she flicked said noggin and snickered when the owner pouted.

Selina composed herself, “I do have two conditions.”

“Anything.”

“First. You are going to properly explain why your albino ass is here.”

“Can’t I do that tomorrow?” 

“Nope. I have spoken. There are no negotiations.”

Harley didn’t protest further. Reluctantly accepting her fate.

“Second. You’re going to take a shower using soap or bleach. I don’t care which. I can’t have you staining my Portuguese flannel sheets with that smell.”


	10. Break

Taking my time for personal reasons but working on a chapter. ❤️


End file.
